


Tension

by RebelDrFerguson



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: A lot of fluffy feelings, Bad Sword Fighting, Cardinal/Treville, Confessions, M/M, Sexual Tension, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 09:23:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8396257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelDrFerguson/pseuds/RebelDrFerguson
Summary: When a test for new musketeers goes haywire, Treville is saved by the least expected person in attendance. They say actions speak louder than words but can Treville continue to hide his feelings when he find's he's outmatched in more ways than one.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Set between series 1/2 before the cardinal died. Obviously. A little OC perhaps and rather AU but it's still basic musketeers line Also...my FIRST real Trevilieu, Sorry I'm just so IN LOVE WITH THIS PAIRING I CANT *screams*

Why had he let King Louie in on his Musketeers.

Ever since that battle in the courtyard verses the red guards The King had been all over helping him pick a new Musketeer. He didn't need one. He had four. But suddenly he had to have 5 and these rouges that had been put through trial after trail were still less than truth worthy. Literally.

The Cardinal had voiced his concern many times about one of them but Louie took a shine to the boy's vigour and he'd made it through to final battle. All the boy had to do was take down 2 of the 4 musketeers to earn a fight with Treville. If the boy could hold out for 10 minutes or even win he could join the group.

Treville was planning to have the boy removed from them as soon as something minor went badly. So the fight it took, Aramis was far too clever for the young upstart and the boy fell on his back inside 3 of the 5 minutes.

Porthos somehow in the name of the country, lost. He'd tripped the younger in the race to pick up their swords both having lost them in a struggle, but as Porthos reach his the younger barrelled into his back and the younger was left standing above him with his sword on kill point.

The crowd by this point we're getting excited.

Treville glanced worriedly at The Cardinal who continued to glare down at him with warning. He really did not like this boy. The problem was Treville couldn't see why. Not yet anyhow.

With Athos disarming the younger and D'Artagnan left calling it a draw when the fight went on for a solid 15 minutes and neither got anywhere. Treville was left to fight.

The King in a very unpopular move had come down from his seat to stand beside the ring and watch like a child at the theatre. The Cardinal was biting at his thumb worried now. His look having left heated hate to cold and calculating as he plotted.

Now as Treville prepared to tap off he noticed the boy was looking at the King behind him. It was that moment he realised that he wasn't the target.

He couldn't call it off else he'd look a coward, he had no proof the boy was about to make a shot for the King but if he could keep him to one side of the ring things might go sweeter.

Within the first minute of the fight Treville found the boy had held something back. He danced around him in circles, blocking, jabbing and very nearly pierced him in the stomach.

Treville was increasingly worried now as it became harder to stop the younger turning them around.

The fight turned dirty as a stray foot had him falling over and the boy turned to the King, in desperation Treville swung his legs around tripping him up and then scrambled to his feet to pin him, alas the boy managed to roll and raised his sword in time. Treville was sent backwards once more as a boot crunched into his groin and the younger was now jumping up to pin him.

D'Artagnan was fighting Athos who was trying to prevent him jumping to the rescue when the Cardinal uncharacteristically left his place and joined Louie beside the ring.

A grunt and Treville straightened up punching the younger in the face as he charged at him. But the blow only did enough to have him stumble back to gather his senses.

"Cardinal! End This!" Athos yelled from the other side and Armand glared to silence him.

"All is fair in a duel, one cannot always fight...fair" he called back making Louie grin like some child who'd been given chocolate.

Treville looked to Armand pleadingly. He couldn't do this for much longer. One foul move and there wouldn't be enough people between the boy and The King.

A hard elbow between his ribs and Treville was on his knees, the boy took the chance and jumped over the fallen guard, charging towards Louie.

Aramis was suddenly in the way and shoulder charged into the younger's side sending them both down. Athos and Porthos were pulling The King away and The Cardinal was shouting for people to move. Treville pushed to his feet and stumbled towards the fighting on the ground.

Where this boy got his strength he had no idea, because Aramis was now unconscious having been punched out and the younger stole the musketeers sword making a wild swing at Treville approaching.

"ATHOS" his cry was too dry for the other guard to hear and Treville was back on the floor rolling away from the younger as he slammed the sword into the dirt.

As he looked back up he saw black. Someone else had jumped into the ring.

"ARMAND NO!"

Before he could attempt to get up The Cardinal had blocked the boy's path and became the line of fire.

A huge gasp from the last of the crowd had everyone frozen. The younger stood completely unsure what he'd just done as the Cardinal grasped at his throat.

There was no screaming, no shouting now, just pure horror.

The Cardinal raised a fluffy eyebrow and pulled his hand away to examine the blood that was trickling from the faint wound on his neck.

He was smirking.

"Now...I can end this" A flash of silver and The Cardinal withdraw a sword from behind his cloak a heavier piece of armoury in which Treville only saw The Cardinal's own bodyguards use. In but one broad swing the screaming resumed and Treville was left to watch the boy fall to the floor his head half hanging off and blood pouring out to soak the ground.

He looked around wildly as people left the scene, his other Musketeers having all left to defend the King.

He pushed to his feet once more and pulled Armand forward to view the wound.

"I'm fine"

"Your bleeding..."

"I noticed..."

"Did you have to kill him?"

"Why would you want him alive?" The Cardinal asked dropping the sword with a clang and pulling away towards the gate.

The look in The Cardinal's eyes spoke more than his sullen tone. They were calm, full of relief and perhaps even affection.

Treville went to follow only to be cut off by a cough as he recalled Aramis and turned to help the hurt Musketeer.

 

* * *

 

 

After an hour awaiting on Aramis being patched up and reporting to the King that the traitor was dead, he re-dressed and made to find The Cardinal. He lied to Louie of course. He said he'd killed the boy, as much as some witnesses can say he'd not, he doubted very much any one would speak up and bad mouth the man who had possibly just saved them all.

It wasn't as if Armand hadn't killed before. He killed a lot these days, just not by his own hand.

Back in the early days Treville had watched Armand disarm man after man with a sword. He was also a decent boxer. But when he accidentally killed that child. The Cardinal was born. He threw away his weapons, renounced his self from the armada and went into solitude.

It was entirely by accident of course. They'd done everything they could to save those hostages. But one wrong move and a bullet had been put through an innocent 7 year old girl.

It had taken years of prayer from Armand to resurface and in the most impossible place. Beside new King Louie. From then on they had been estranged. Treville watched him practically father Louie, his advice always a sure footing. It wasn't until other countries made political moves that Armand's motives became less clean. He plotted, schemed and gave no care as to who died just so things ran smoothly for the King.

Treville hated himself from standing in the way at times, but he couldn't allow these games. His friend was beyond this. He couldn't get beyond himself.

In the first few days of seeing Armand again, he knew something in himself had changed. The man's eyes made his heart race, his voice made him weak. Just standing near him made him sweat.

 Worst of it all, Armand was far too smart to not know.

Drunk or not, in friendship or more, one night in an alleyway had been plaguing him his whole life.

He'd kissed Armand. They'd been fighting, they used to argue a lot but this got wild.

The tension cracked and he made a rash move to shut the other up, defending  himself from the insults the other screamed in his face.

It went from rough and awkward to steady, breathless and almost romantic in seconds. He still recalls Armand's warm lips, the cold hand that shoved him away and the way the older stormed off never to speak of the night again.

Until tonight. Armand had practically saved his life and broken his own rule. He'd picked back up a sword and killed a man by hand under oath.

Treville had to know why.

The guards didn't protest his entrance which was unusual, but Armand had probably guessed he would come to visit.

Knocking on the door of the private chamber's he waited for the door to open. After a few minutes he went to knock again when it swung back, it revelled a half dressed Cardinal in his bloody white tunic top and slack velvet trousers, a piece of gauze had been plastered to the wound on his neck.

"I expected you earlier..." Armand said dryly turning away to go back changing his shirt.

Jean's bravery had sunk through the floor along with his stomach when he saw the blood.

That swing had been so close, the boy could have slashed his throat open but Armand seemed far to occupied by his own annoyance that they'd all allowed the traitor past the trials even with his warnings.

He guessed it wasn't the first time he and The King had ignored His Eminences advice. If Jean had learnt anything from today, it was too seriously start considering everything Armand said. He always gave advice in good faith. Even in the times he'd been part of heists or killings he done it all for a better reason. He wasn't a bad man. Now if only he could prove that to his Musketeers.

Jean stepped into the private chamber quietly and closed the door behind him. The last time he'd been in here he'd been watching Armand choke to death from some poison.

That whole event had made him question the church. How sick does a Pope need to be to kill one of the lords followers huh? Shameful.

He tried not to watch as Armand pulled the blood stained tunic over his head to change into a similar black one, yet he did and what he glimpsed made him swallow hard.

The Cardinal was a lean and wiry man, built like a fine stallion with razor sharp reflex's. Even for a man his age he could still give Treville a run for his money in a sword fight never mind hand to hand.

It wasn't until Armand called his name did he realise The Cardinal had been talking this entire time.

"Jean?!" He looked somewhere between concerned and fed up.

"Sorry...I wasn't listening" he muttered setting his hat down on the nearby table and stepping further into the room.

The Cardinal was now standing beside the fireplace with a letter in his hand.

"Hm...As I was saying, I hoped you learnt something from that fight?" Armand said, a warning in his tone. Like a father to his son.

All Jean could do was nod.

He'd learned enough and he knew Armand knew that too.

He wanted to ask him if he was okay but he knew he'd get some sort of insult or mutterings about being badgered, right now he wouldn't mind Armand telling him off but The Cardinal seemed to think he'd be better with the silent treatment.

It was working. The quiet room slowly became tense and awkward. He felt shy and guilt ridden. How could he apologise?

He began to think back on how rash the move Armand had made. The boy had gone for the kill, to slash at his throat and race for the king.

What had made Armand save him? Yes a man of God probably couldn't just stand there and watch him get possibly killed but they'd not been friends in years. Why risk himself?

A heat began to flood through his veins at being this close beside Armand. Especially in private, no musketeers, and no reason at all to be here apart from worry.

He found his voice again for a moment as his bravery peaked out from its hiding place.

"How did you know?"

The Cardinal glanced up and smirked crumpling the papers in his hand and tossing them to the glowing logs in the fireplace.

"Milady of course"

"So she is working for you"

"I didn't say that....I was merely tipped off that this scoundrel was not from Paris. In fact as far as I know he wasn't even French..." he left his words hanging like a noose in the air.

Treville hadn't heard the boy speak. He'd never assessed whether the boy hadn't been French. He was back to kicking himself. If he'd had spoken to him before all this he might have spotted just why Armand had been so on edge.

Jean was back to staring at The Cardinal's neck as he began to read another letter from the few on the mantelpiece.

He reached out an unsteady hand towards the piece of gauze on the cardinal’s neck. Treville should have taken that blow, why did this overbearingly ruthless idiot always have to have things his way?

Just as his fingertips touched the piece of material over the wound the cardinal turned and Treville wrenched his hand back as if he’d been burnt. Every other time that they’ve been in the same room he didn’t feel like this, but when they were alone he felt weak. He felt dragged down by some unknown force and something inside him begged to be the center of this man’s attention. He wanted to speak but his mouth was dry.

The few seconds of eye contact stoked the fire in his veins and he gulped feeling like a mouse under a lion’s gaze.

“Does it hurt?” he asked hoarsely. He coughed to clear his throat. Why was he so nervous? Armand wouldn’t harm him, at least anymore. 

The Cardinal smirked wickedly and turned to face him properly closing the small space between them.

“No” The answer was so deep and full of underlying meanings that it made his head spin.

“Why did you save me? You’ve shown The King that-”

“I have shown him nothing…he knows very little of my past Jean and he knows none of which I spent with you, I was merely protecting my best assets”

“So I’m just another pawn in your game huh?”

The Cardinal turned on heel out of his bedroom room and sat in his chair in full grace not sparing him a glance let alone an answer.

“Answer me” Treville growled his blood beginning to boil why did this man always push his buttons.

The Cardinal continued to ignore him and continued to read at his desk.

Treville stormed forward and leant over the paperwork forcing Armand to look up.

“I WILL NOT BE IGNORED ARMAND, ANSWER ME”

He'd not meant to shout, nor sound so desperate, so hurt. He straightened himself from the desk as Armand pushed to his feet making the chair screech on the stone floor.

"Give me a reason not to? you ignored my advice, you ignore my warning, you continue to get in my way, you let your little mutt's stick their noses into my politics and you have me break my own oath to save your damned life, tell me Jean, why do you deserve an answer, what have you done for it?!" he snarled back at half the volume but with twice as much ferocity.  

He opened his mouth to speak the words that might just kill him, they sat on the tip of his tongue but Armand continued.

"You should be happy with just being alive, you should be back in that garrison doing your JOB not here pandering me for insignificant answer's because you screwed up and risked the King. Now put your petty emotion's aside and stop looking for an excuse. If your wanting absolution then come back after dinner, confession's at nine and Lord knows I bloody well expect to see you" The Cardinal sat back down with a hard sigh.

Why did they fight like this?  Armand had every right to be angry at this moment but want happened to destroy their trust.

Treville swallowed and nodded turning away without another word. It would do no use to push here and now. Not in this way.

He picked up his hat and left swiftly. He blamed it on the dust in the yard when he hand to wipe tears from his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

When nine came he wandered slowly into the church. He spotted a pair of women at the far side pew and a young guard on the other side at the far back. Armand used to pass through here nearly every day, he had his own private prayer chambers alas he always came into the main church just to show his values and perhaps speak with the other priests.

He'd spotted Armand entering the church a good while ago, Jean had been sat outside several yards away hoping to time his arrival correctly and to measure what mood Richelieu might be in.

He couldn't prevent the guilt and he now knew why.

Armand had made the action in replace of words he'd been too ashamed to say.

Unlike Jean who'd held his emotion's against the older for several years feeling rejected all because of some drunken kiss. He wished he could go back to that night and go after Armand, speak the truth, maybe they wouldn't be here now.

Maybe he could have been there to comfort Armand in his depression after that battle. Maybe he could have helped him fight the shadow's which threatened to eat him whole.

It had taken Jean two glasses of his private stash brandy before he'd found strength to walk from the garrison to sit on a wall and wait.

He had to speak up. Say something before the lies hurt them more than the truth.

He walked quietly to the front pew and waited in silence, staring at the small cross in his hand. The small piece had been given to him by Armand for his birthday one year when Jean had let it slip in the common room. Armand had invited him to have drink with him and some of the olders but Jean had refused in embarrassment saying he plans. He smiled to himself, he wished he'd gone. Instead he'd hidden in the rooms playing with that cross. That was the first time he accepted it.

The first time he realized.

He loved Armand.

 

He must have been waiting half an hour before he saw Armand leaving a side door from one of the offices and looking about. He spotted Jean and approached.

Jean held his tongue but looked up as The Cardinal shadowed over him. His face had softened now, his eye's seemed sadder and he no longer felt hostile. Treville eyed the patch on Armand's throat and wondered if it might scar.

A wave of Armand's hand and they were walking, leaving through another door and along a corridor. He followed curious. He'd never been inside Richelieu's private prayer rooms.

After another door and long set of step's down underground he stopped a red guard beside a smaller door. He watched as the man opened it with a key from his belt and they passed through into...heaven.

Jean was so stunned by the masse's of silver and gold ornaments, paintings that lines the walls and heavy cushioned benches that he didn't hear the door behind locked behind him and the guard walking away.

He hadn't expected it to be so grand. Even the altar was huge and overly decorated.

Armand must have seen his surprise because a chuckle reached his ears.

 

Jean turned to see him lacking his cloak and now removing his heavy leather coat.

"Make yourself at home Captain, we have a lot to discuss" he smiled before walking towards the altar at the top. Jean did as he was told and lay his coat aside, he noticed the room beyond held a plush carpet and with a minutes hesitation decided to remove his boots to prevent him trailing any mud. He padded through to see Armand in his shirtsleeves knelt by a low table setting down two cups of herbal tea. The church was heavy on the green tea, it had what they saw as the best healing properties for congress.

Jean sat opposite Armand crossing his legs. He recalled one day as a young teen joining Sister Audrey in her office when he fell over in the grounds and cut his hand during a training lesson, she'd had a similar set up to this.

He'd expected to be on his knee with Armand stood over him by the altar, he expected to be asking for counsel and asking for absolute for his mistake. But here he was accepting tea and smiling beside Armand as if the argument in his office hadn't happened.

He guessed the old ways were not useful for this. this ran deeper than some mere slip up or rash decision, this was entangled with emotion's and soul not something that could be repaired by asking God for forgiveness. He knew maybe later that night he would ask Armand for it. But right now he'd rather get everything off his chest.

"Why do you have to think about this so hard Jean?" came the quiet question.

Jean glanced up from staring into his green tea. It was delicious as usual.

"Because I need to know" he replied with a sigh setting the cup down gently.

"Know what?"

"why you would risk yourself for someone who means so little to you"

Armand blinked confused. "Why would you think that I do not care, in fact why would you think you matter so little to me that I wouldn't help you? If this had been the other way around would you have not jumped at the chance to save me?" he asked a slightly pained tone in his voice.

Jean hadn't meant to pull at heart strong's already. "Of course I would" he said without hesitation. "I'd rather die myself that anyone harm you Armand..."

"Then why question my motives to save you, am I not allowed to feel the same?"

Jean set his jaw and pondered the words carefully.

 

_feel the same_

That could mean a few things. It could mean to feel reason to save him but also feel the same emotion. He could also mean...

When Armand's eye's dropped to his tea cup, Jean felt his heart leap. He had to approach carefully now, a wrong tone or word could land him in hot water.

"Of course you are...But, is it something you would except of me after all of this" he asked nervous.

Armand took a deep breath.

"We all make mistakes...we all fail in times were are needed, we all need lifelines and second chances, we all deserve truth and respect, forgiveness and blessings...what we do not deserve is the faith of the innocent when we are not ourselves"

The words resonated inside Jean like music in a gigantic hall, they bounced around and tickled, they caught on sore points and stung at the same time.

"Innocence is corrupted by others who have no care for the world" Jean responded in turn making Armand look him in the eyes with a little hope. "You're a much better man than your believe"

This close and this personal he could see young Armand still so afraid and hurt, so lost in his regret and could see how long he'd tortured himself knowing just what he was doing. He knew everything he was doing. He cared about everything he did. Jean could see that over the past years Armand had examined everything in his life down to the finest degree and broken pieces of himself to accept that he couldn't be perfect himself but try to make someone...The King, look perfect.

He'd corrupted himself to protect innocent young Louie, from his mother's wrath and right now he needed Jean to see that, to accept that and to forgive him as much as Jean wanted forgiveness for the day.

_We all make mistakes...we all need lifelines..._

Armand had been his. Now it was Jean's turn to rescue Armand from the depth of darkness he'd walked into.

Here went nothing.

"I made a mistake that night...I should have followed you home Armand, because for the time you've suffered thinking you had been played, I had held  the truth from you"

"You were drunk"

"Because I needed courage..."

Armand's brow creased and Jean swallowed.

"I didn't think you'd-" he lost heart and fell silent. The booze he'd drank no longer warmed his blood.

"Then tell me the truth, you know it is not of my place to judge you anymore now than it was then"

He wanted to jump across the table and kiss him. To hold him and tell him everything was okay. To pretend they'd never argued, never felt hate that they'd never...

 

Oh god.

He was so, so stupid.

Armand had already said how he felt in his actions.

He didn't need the truth because he already knew. He'd already known. Jean had known that, what Jean hadn't know was whether Armand could ever love him back.

Today, today Armand had said all that and more by risking his life after everything that had happened. After all the arguments over the years, the battles, the ruined plans, the sniffed out plots, the shouting in the office and the King's safety.

They were smiling at each other now.

He'd been so stubborn to think to hard about the reason he'd missed the whole meaning.

He watched Armand stand in silence and walk to the altar. He glanced over his shoulder with a smirk before muttering a few prayers.

Jean stood and came to his knee's a foot or so away from him and kept his voice as neutral as he could without getting emotional.

"Bless me, Father... for I have sinned"

Armand turned to him and cocked his head waiting.

"It's been 9 years since my last confession..."

Armand raised a fluffy grey eyebrow at that. It meant that Jean had been to confession at least once after becoming a musketeer.

Since no one was to ever witness them but God himself he tossed aside the script, Armand knelt on one knee and lifted Jean's chin to look into his eyes.

He smiled and lent closer. "Speak now my son, or forever hold your piece"

Jean smirked at the underlying meaning.

"I have to confess, I love you...I always have"

Richelieu let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and gave in as Jean kissed him.

Something so sweet and yet so sinful caused him to lose himself for several moments before he found himself pressing Treville bodily into the plush carpet with a moan, he came back to himself as his finger's grazed bare skin beneath Jean's tunic top.

Armand pondered his possible order for repent when an idea brought a blush to his pale cheeks.

"Perhaps...a more comfortable place is needed for...this" he whispers into Jean's ear and Treville shuddered beneath him.

"Please, Father..." he muttered into Armand's neck and they began to move.

Jean smirked as Richelieu pushed back a curtain revelling a hidden door, that if this was the ending to every confession he'd have to attend more often.

**Author's Note:**

> Now...here is the question for you to answer in ze comments. Do I write the sex? I'm not bragging but It could be good. I'm not exactly bad at smut. Okay, that might have been a wee bit of bragging. Or begging, take it how you please. #Litteraly #Wink


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